Exit Wounds
by AnInsideJoke
Summary: Ron and Hermione try to cope with reality after Ron's departure. Songfic to 'Exit Wounds' by The Script. Review please!


**Okay, so I have a lot of favorite bands, but my all time favorite is definitely The Script. Their music is beautiful. Seriously, I listen to the radio and all of the songs are about drinking or sex. Then I listen to The Script, and one of their more recent singles 'For the First Time' was written about the recession. So there's quite a contrast there. I've been listening to their newest album 'Science and Faith' non-stop, and I love every song on it. One of the songs is called 'Exit Wounds', and the second or third time I listened to it, I stopped and realized '...Oh my God, this fits so well with Ron's departure!' So The Script had inspired this little songfic :] Lyrics is Bold are Ron's POV, words in **_**Bold and Italic**_** are Hermione's. The parts written after the lyrics reflect that person's point of view (If there's a paragraph after a Bold section, it will be from Ron's POV, If there's one after a Bold and Italic section, it will be Hermione's POV). The first paragraph is Hermione's POV. Here we go!**

No, No, No. This can't be happening. He's grabbing his rucksack...he's actually serious! Stop him, you idiot! And now he's asking if I'm coming with him... but I can't leave! He can't either! Why is he doing this? I know that the locket has something to do with this, but he took it off! That should've brought him to his senses right?

'I saw you two the other night.'

...What? Does...does he actually think that... Me and Harry? He can't be serious!

'Ron that's...that's nothing!' My mouth moves, and somehow words come out, though I can't feel my throat constricting painfully as I try to hold back tears. Now he just looks disgusted, and he's...he's walking out. He actually did it. I knew Ron was capable of doing a lot of things, but I never thought for a second that he could do _this._

_**My hands are cold,  
My body's numb,  
I'm still in shock, what have you done?**_

I...can't move. I can't think, I can't _breathe._ All I know is that my world is crumbling, and the only way to pull it back together again is to run and get him. 'Ron!' I finally manage to choke out, ducking under the flap of the tent.

**My head is pounding,  
My visions blurred,  
Your mouth is moving, I don't hear a word.**

She's coming after me. I think she might have said my name, but I can't understand anything. The blood is rushing in my head, the wind is whipping, and my ears or ringing. I'm just so...overwhelmed by everything, and I want to collapse right then and there, but I remind myself that I'm leaving, that they don't need me. That thought just brings tears to my eyes. Oh Merlin, now I'm crying. As if I wasn't pathetic enough. She's caught my arm, and pulled me with such force that I have to face her. I can't really see hear, my eyes are so clouded with tears. She's talking, I can see. Her mouth is moving, and she's probably trying to convince me to stay. But I'm so beyond that point; nothing she could say would make me stay. It hurts too much to see them together, to know that the girl I love fell for my best friend instead of me.

Of course, I'm not surprised, I'm nothing compared to Harry, but It still hurts like Hell. I can't stay here when it's killing me to be around them. So when he's speaking, trying to lure me back to the tent, I go blank. I can't hear her, I can barely see her. The only thing I connecting us right now is her hand on my arm. So when I push it off, making myself free to apparate, so much is lost. Breaking that small connection between us is so much more significant than just shrugging off someone's arm. This is it, this is the end. The last thing I can see before I apparate is her falling to her knees, looking broken beyond repair.

A pang of unmistakable guilt and regret hits me like a bullet before the sensation of apparating takes over me. _  
_  
_**And I hurt so bad,  
that I search my skin,  
for the entry point,  
where love went in,  
and ricocheted and bounced around,  
and left a hole when you walked out, yeah...**_

He's...he's gone? But he can't be! He can't just leave me like this! How is it that easy to walk away from us, especially now? All those years of friendship, of duelling together, of facing evil together, do they mean nothing to him?

I can't even stand. I fell to my knees when he left, and I can't even get up now. My chest hurts with every heartbeat, my eyes burning with the constant flow of tears. I can't breathe normally, and I'm convinced I might be having a panic attack. It would make perfect sense if I was, and really, right now I just want something to make sense, because Ron abandoning us definitely doesn't.

Everything's aching. You'd think that being out in the cold, just sitting here without a jacket, would make me numb. I wish it would, I wish there was something here to dull the pain, but if anything, the cold just made the pain more intense. It was a reminder that this was real, that this wasn't some horrid nightmare. I fell onto my side, landing on the cold ground. The ground's a wet mess because of the rain, but I can't care less that I'm lying in mud. Everything hurt more with every second. Shouldn't the cold help dull the pain?

But in the back of my mind, I knew that this pain couldn't be numbed. Sobbing shamelessly on the ground, I allowed myself to grieve the loss of him. I allowed the pain to consume me, knowing that it would not cease. He held my heart, he had for a while, but now he had decided to rip it apart and take its mangled remains with him.

**I'm falling through the doors of the emergency room  
Can anybody help me with these exit wounds?**

Oh Merlin...

Bloody Hell...

What the hell have I done?

I feel sick, and I know it's not from apparating. I'm disgusted with myself. How could I do this to them? I just walked out on them in the middle of the war. Why the hell am I a Gryffindor if I run away when things get tough? I don't remember where the camp was this time...How the hell am I supposed to get back? Would they even want be back after I did _that_ to them?

I don't really know where I am. I was thinking of Bill and Fleur; maybe this is the forest outside of it? I dunno, I can't be bothered to find out. All I can see is trees.

I can't walk. I've already walked away from the two most important people in my life, I've already run away from the danger they're facing. Instead of trying to find the cottage, I collapse on the ground, leaning against a tree. The locket's no longer clouding my thoughts, so I can think clearly about my two best friends.

What if they get hurt? What if they're attacked or one of them, Merlin forbid, dies? I told myself I would protect them, that I wouldn't let Voldemort kill Harry, that I wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on Hermione. But...I left. I left them to fend for themselves, and they're more than capable of doing that but...what if they're dueling, and they don't see a spell coming towards them that I do? That's happened before, I've blocked curses sent at both of them before. But now, if that happens...the curses will hit them. They'll get hurt and it's _all my fault._

This night...that argument we just had could be the last moments I spent with them. I might never see them again. Blimey, I really miss them. It's been less than 5 minutes, and I already miss them, the little things that I took for granted...

I'll never talk with Harry again. We always used to tell each other our problems, whether they were with school, or with girls, or anything troubling us in life. Of course, being Harry Potter, there was always something troubling in his life. We would always chat about Qudditch, or new ways to bug Snape, or scheme to get revenge on Malfoy for all the problems he caused us. We'll never again make stupid crude jokes that Hermione would surely chastise us for if she heard. We were just...we _were_ best mates. We _were_ always there for each other. And now, I've ruined it.

I'll never argue with Hermione...Is it weird that I miss fighting with her? I guess not, I miss everything about her, and her stubbornness is one of the things I miss. I miss how she can be completely short tempered when we're arguing, but so patient when she's trying to explain her notes to me. I miss that tenderness she showed when she was working on stuff for S.P.E.W., and the fierce anger that became present when Malfoy was taunting one of us. I miss that little smile she would give me, the gentle one where the corners of her lips curved up gracefully, where her eyes would shine with something I could never quite detect. I would rarely see it, and I don't think I've seen her show that smile to anyone else. I think I deluded myself into thinking that that little grin was just for me. Now, I would never get to see that smile again.

Do they miss me as much as I miss them?

No, they have each other, now the can be alone, now they can be happy...

_So why does their happiness hurt me so much?_

_**I don't know how much more love this heart can lose  
And I'm dying, dying from these exit wounds.**_

How many times can a heart be broken? In fourth year, when I knew I liked him, he just saw me as a last resort, just someone to use so he wouldn't go to the ball without a date. In sixth year, when I thought we were going to Slughorn's party together, he went off and snogged Lavender. Wherever I went, they were there, sucking each other's faces off. That was both painful and sickening.

So Fourth year hurt.

Sixth year _hurt_.

But this? This was _excruciating_. This felt like I was being ripped apart.

Hope was basically not-existent in my world right now. Really, we hadn't a clue where the sword was, nor did we now where the other horcruxes were. We were up against a huge army of death eaters, and the three...two of us couldn't possible defeat them all. Voldemort was unbeatable if the horcruxes weren't found and destroyed.

I was almost ready to stand up, but as I thought about how bleak the future was looking, I lost my will.

But that wasn't all I lost. I lost _him_. The boy, no, the _man_ who could make me feel more than anyone else, the man who had always supported me through tough times, who had protected me in battle, who had held me as I cried over the past few months. I lost the man who I lost my heart to.

And the sobs took over me again, shaking the very core of my being.

**Wounds, when they're leaving the scars you're keeping.**

I knew that even if I found my way back to them, I could never take back what I did. I had hurt them too much.

_**Exit wounds, when they're leaving the scars you're keeping.  
**_

I knew that even if he realized he was wrong and came back to us, he could never take back what he did, he couldn't possibly make it up to me. He had hurt me too much.

_**It marks a battle, you still feel raw,  
A million pieces of me on the floor, **_

Harry had wandered out and found her shattered being nestled in the dirtied grass. His tear-stained cheeks shone in the dim light of the moon, his green eyes tainted with grief over the loss of Ron, anger that he had left, and confusion as he wasn't sure if this was all real or not. When he made eye contact with her, sympathy flashed across his orbs, mixing in with all of the other emotions. He knew how Hermione felt about Ron (and how Ron felt about Hermione, but he was starting to question Ron's feelings. Harry knew that he never really wanted to leave Ginny, so he wondered why Ron would want to leave Hermione.) Knowing how she must have felt, he stooped to the ground and scooped her up, carrying her back to the tent. The simple gesture of comfort meant little to either of them. Without Ron, they were incomplete. A trio can't function when there are only two members. A heart can't beat when part of it is missing.

**I'm damaged goods for all to see,  
Now who would ever wanna be with me?  
**

The Locket made me do it.

Although that was basically the truth, it was a pathetic excuse. I took of the locket before I left. It didn't make me walk out of the tent, it didn't make me turn my back on Hermione when she ran after me.

Why would see run after me? She chose Harry, didn't she? At least, that's what the locket told me.

The evil locket...

That has part of the You-Know-Who's soul it in...

And You-Know-Who is always trying to get into people's heads to destroy them...

_Bloody Hell, why did I ever listen to that thing?_

I buried my head in my hands, more ashamed than I have ever been. If I hadn't let it get to me, I would still be with them; I could still be there to protect them. And who knows? Maybe Hermione didn't think of Harry like that, maybe I still had a chance with her.

Of course, I only would have had that chance if I had stayed. She would never want me after what I've done.

I've lost her. And that hurts more than anything I've ever felt.

**I've got all the baggage,  
the drink, the pills,**

_**Yeah this is living,  
But without the will, **_

I sat in the tent, nestled into my bunk. I had enough blankets to keep me warm, but I was still cold. I'm not quite sure if it was from being outside for so long, or if Ron had taken all of the warmth with him when he left. Whichever it was, I knew I wouldn't be warming up anytime soon.

Harry was sitting in the chair on the other side of the room, motionless. It became obvious to me in that moment that without him, sure we could survive, but we couldn't actually _live._

**I'm blacking out, I'm shutting down, **

Punching a nearby tree, I cursed myself for leaving them. Honestly, what the hell was wrong with me? Who just leaves their best friends in the middle of a bloody war? I continue to think as I lean back against the beaten tree.

I love them. Harry's like a brother to me, he's always been there, and he's been nothing but good to me. I couldn't possibly blame him for the rare times he lashed out at me; he's up against the darkest wizard every known, isn't he? And Hermione...I'm in love with her. It took me years to realize it, but I know it's true. Every little quirk of hers gives me a little jolt in my chest. Every smile she sends me just makes me _so happy._

So if I love them like I think I do, why the hell did I ever leave them?

Because I'm a git. I'm a prat. I'm a coward. I'm the world's biggest, stupidest, most pathetic excuse for a man.

I _can't stand_ myself.

Feeling disgusted, helpless and ashamed, I slide down the tree I was leaning on.  
_  
They can't possibly love me after this._

With that sudden truth, I close my eyes and turn away from the world if only for a few hours. I almost hear blokes with Cockney accents bickering in the distance, but Hermione's pleas echo in my ears until everything else is drowned out, and it's just _Hermione_.

She's all I think of as I fall asleep.

_**You left a hole when you walked out yeah,**_

_**I'm falling through the doors of the emergency room  
Can anybody help me with these exit wounds? **_

I think I almost got some sleep last night. _Almost. _Even if I did, I feel as exhausted as ever. Obviously, I had a restless night. My dreams were invaded with the horrid memory of him walking out, the scene replaying over and over until it's almost driven me mental.

Harry's not talking, which I'm pretty grateful for, seeing as I don't think I could manage a conversation.

I tried to talk once, but as soon as I opened my mouth, a painful lump formed in my throat and the tears came back. I can't even imagine talking anymore. I think if I spoke to Harry, I would just sit there, expecting _him_ to interject with some smart aleck comment, or to complain about the lack of food. I was so annoyed with his complaints a week ago, but now I would give anything to hear him whine again.

I can't go a second without thinking about him. I feel like there's a weight on my chest that's getting heavier with each breath a take. I keep trying to compose myself, to pull myself together, but I don't think I can do it. I've never backed down from a challenge before, but I don't think I can't handle this.

Being logical has always helped me, so I try to convince myself of the truth. As my head tells me the words I dread, I can feel the lump in my throat forming again.

_He's gone, Hermione. He left you, and he's not coming back._

Maybe that weight on my chest is just reality sinking in.

**I don't know how much more love this heart can lose  
And I'm dying, dying from these exit wounds.  
Wounds...  
When they're leaving the scars you're keeping,  
Exit wounds- when they're leaving the scars you're keeping.**

There's someone grabbing me. I'm shaken awake by some bloke who reeks of whiskey. His words are slurred by his possible drunkenness, and they're twisted by his accent. "Oi, didn't you hear me? What's your name? Speak up or we'll have to use force."

Yeah, because being yanked up by my hair wasn't using force.

His team is talking too, distracting him from me for a second. I can't tell them who I am; Ron Weasley is supposed to be home with Spattergroit. If they know he's not, they'll go and interrogate the family. I need to protect them. I'm not letting anyone else get hurt because of me.**  
**

I think of a name as fast as I can. I need to get away from these guys. I need to protect my family.

But more than anything, I need to get back to Harry and Hermione. I need to fix the mess I made.

_**Lose your clothes and show your scars,**_

_**That's who you are, believe **_

I couldn't find a way to distract myself. Conversation was basically impossible. I tried to read, but every time I opened a book I expected to hear Ron nag me about my constant reading, and that just brought the pain back. I couldn't think about Horcruxes when that stupid locket has torn our trio apart.

So I just sat there. I sat there, and played with the blankets. I sat there and examined the walls of the tent. With Harry guarding the tent, the only company I had was my thoughts. I couldn't handle it; My mind kept going back to last night, to Ron leaving, to him looking at me with no emotion at all, even though I was crying and begging.

Overwhelmed, I rushed to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. It had been a while since I last looked in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, their outline dragged down by dark purple bags from my lack of sleep. My hair was a muddy mess from lying on the ground yesterday. I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, so i could see the little scratches and bruises from our past encounters. I looked over myself.

There was a scar along my shoulder from first year, from the troll attack. There was another one near it from our venture to get the philosopher's stone, probably from the explosion in the giant chess game. Where my shirt has ridden up, I saw a long white scar from third year, when we were trying to get under the Whomping Willow. Up near the neckline of my shirt, I could see the long scar from our battle in the department of mysteries in fifth year.

As I looked over myself, I thought of him once again. Finding the stone, finding out the truth about Sirius, fighting in the Ministry. They were all things we did together. He was always there, with me and Harry. It was always the three of us. _Always._

The scars I observed would never fade, as they signified the bond between the three of us.

Even if Ron was gone, even if he never came back, I would always be connected to him.

**Lose your clothes  
And show your scars that's who you are, believe**

I got away from the blokes who were interrogating me. I managed to get one of their wands, too. But in order to get away from them, I had to disapparate, so now I really didn't know where I was. I think I was in the forest we stayed in right after the break in at the Ministry. It was just the first place I thought of.

The group had beaten me up a fair bit as I tried to get away. My arm was pretty sore, so I rolled up my sleeve. I noticed the little stringy white scars from the brains in the department of mysteries in 5th year. By them, there were the more recent scars left by Hermione's charmed bird last year. I felt a smile tug at my lips for a second, but it drooped a second later. I didn't deserve to smile. Finally, I saw the very tip of the fresh scar from when I was splinched, the rest of it being hidden by my sleeve.

I thought of Harry and Hermione, as I had been all night. They were there in the battle in fifth year. Hermione was the one who gave me the tiny little peck marks on my arms. She was also the one who save me when I was splinched.

She was always there. She never left.

But I did. I let her down. I hurt her. As ashamed as I was, I knew that I couldn't sit here and wallow forever. I got my battle scars for a reason, I fought for a reason. I fought to help rid the world of Voldemort, to help Harry in his battle, to protect Hermione. I wasn't going to stop fighting now. It may take a while to figure out how to get back, but I would. I would find them again.

These scars linked me to them, and I wouldn't let those links be broken.

_**Lose your clothes  
And show your scars that's who you are, believe  
Lose your clothes and show your scars... **_

_**It marks a battle  
You still feel raw,  
A million pieces of me on the floor...**_

_**I'm falling through the doors of the emergency room  
Can anybody help me with these exit wounds? **_

I wandered back to my cot, barely aware of my surroundings. I just couldn't forget him. He left me, didn't he? So why wouldn't he just get out of my head?

_Because I don't want him to._

I don't want him to leave. My memories of him are all I have left.

I can't lose him.

**I don't know how much more love this heart can lose  
And I'm dying, dying from these exit wounds.  
Wounds...  
When they're leaving the scars you're keeping, **

So I got up, and apparated to Shell Cottage. I knew that I couldn't find Harry and Hermione yet, not with these circumstances. I mean, I had no idea where they were, the tent was hidden from sight and I wouldn't be able to see anything in this light. Right now, I needed to get somewhere safe where I could figure out a way to get back to them. I knew that Bill and Fleur would be less than impressed when they saw me, but right now I was just doing what I could to fix this mess I made.

I want to see Harry and Hermione again. I want to apologize to Harry, to take back every stupid thing I said. I want to hold Hermione and never let her go. I need to get back to them, before it's too late.

I can't lose them.

**Exit wounds- when they're leaving the scars you're keeping.**

For Ron and Hermione, the pain of their heartbreak overshadowed the pain from their battle scars. Both of them were broken, their better half missing as they were not together anymore. Though Harry's prophecy read, in reference to Harry and Voldemort, that 'Neither could live while the other survived', the opposite applied for Ron and Hermione. The night of Ron's departure, that night of tears and tormenting dreams, Ron and Hermione discovered that it was impossible to live without each other.

**So the ending sucks, I know, but I couldn't think of anything better ^^Not my best work, but I just wanted to write a songfic with this song. Hope you enjoyed it, Review please!**


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